


DON'T LOOK DOWN

by OhMaven



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMaven/pseuds/OhMaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shot stories about the relationship (platonic and romantic) between Barbara Gordon and Jason Todd; with cameos and appearances from lots of other fun characters! NOTE: Because this is an AU set within the same universe as my other writing, the timeline of canon events has been altered to fit the flow of storytelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. WE BLEED TOGETHER

_Chok._

_The hand raised above her spouted blood, the hook clattered to the boardwalk. From where she lay, she could see Robin, arm still extended with the harpoon he'd launched. For a moment, all Barbara had been able to do was sputter. What had he done? What was Bruce thinking, picking up a kid like this? He was all anger, all emotion, and none of the necessary detachment. He was no Dick Grayson.He met her challenge without flinching though, and that's when she realized that this boy was no stranger to it. He'd been pushed and contested and many had tried to change him before her. Before Bruce._

_“Anybody cuts one of us gets cut in return.”_

_His hand lowered, reached out to her, offered her a way up. Barbara had taken it, not knowing what else to do, that famed mind of hers racing over the importance of his words. Us. Jason was already associating as one of them, was already integrating himself to the whole, had already determined that they were a team. A family. Something she was sure he hadn't had before._

_They had shared breakfast that morning, as Barbara had tried to decide what she was going to tell Bruce about his newest ward, about the boy he'd suspected had pushed someone to their death. She could see the anger that it would take to kill in Robin, but she'd also seen more._

Hot water spurted out of her showerhead, soaking her red hair into a shade only recognizable as 'dark'. Barbara tried to wash the conversation – all of the conversations – of that day down the drain with the dirty water. In the end, she hadn't wanted to say anything to Bruce that would cut Jason's time as Robin short. She felt that the Dark Knight would be a good influence, would be the only chance Jason had to be more than what other boys like him would become. She hadn't felt qualified to remove that bit of hope from the young man. Bruce hadn't been impressed, but that would be on his own head. She had warned him of Jason's emotive nature, had cautioned him to use a lighter hand on him. To not push him. Barbara had reminded Bruce that Jason was not Dick. She doubted the man would see it. He so rarely saw things that weren't his own ideas.

With clean hair and a somewhat lighter air, Barbara cut out the water and stepped out of the shower. It was morning, and she hadn't had sleep yet, but at just shy of eighteen she certainly had the youthful vigor to keep dark circles at bay for the time being. How long that would hold up was beyond her, so she dabbed her skin care products on her face, got dressed, and chose to disregard the mirror. Plenty of time for that later. Barbara cut out the light, moved through the hall and down the stairs; at the bottom of which she stopped, because her father was standing in front of the open door...talking to a boy.

“Dad?” Barbara frowned, and stepped into the foyer, just as Jim Gordon turned, and exposed Jason Todd standing in the doorway.

“Good Morning, Barbara. This young man says he has a study session with you?” Jim looked doubtful, one of his thick eyebrows arched high on his forehead, and that squirm-inducing dad look on his face. “Is that true?”

Behind Jim, the boy she'd just spent the evening with was giving her a hopeful look. She was a sucker for that kind of kicked-puppy expression, and somehow he already knew it. Barbara sighed, and patted her father's arm. “Yeah, just a quick catch-up on a lesson Jason missed last week.”

It didn't take long to squeeze by her father, and hustle Jim out the front door, and then around the side of the house into the alley. “Jason, what the hell?”

Gone was the hopeful expression, in its place the bravado she'd been looking at all night. It was an expression that reminded her that Jason felt tough, felt like a loner, that he knew he looked in from the outside and didn't give a damn. It was almost more heartbreaking than the kicked-puppy look of moments before. She crossed her arms while the younger boy fished a cigarette out of his back pocket and lit it up. Barbara's lips pursed, and she thought about pointing out who her father was, but if Jason knew where to find her house, he knew that much. He was a smart kid, along with being a smartass.

“Why didn't you tell Bruce?” His voice was harsh, gruff from (she assumed) the cigarette he was puffing on. “About the harpoon, and how much of a loose canon I am?”

Despite the cigarette, the halo of smoke, and the gruff words, she couldn't help seeing how young Jason looked – a hell of a lot younger than she currently felt. Barbara shoved her hands into her back pockets, and focused her attention on the neighboring building, rather than that insolent face. After a long pause, she finally looked back over at Jason. “Anybody cuts one of us gets cut in return, right? Right or wrong, you're one of us now, kid.”

Jason blinked at her, grinned, and dropped his cigarette to the ground where he unceremoniously stamped it out. “You know what, Barbie? You're not half bad.”


	2. Nicotine

Shadows moved in the illuminated square window; Barbara was definitely home, then. Robin pressed further into the shadows behind him, not wanting to be caught looking into the window of the Police Commissioner's daughter like some kind of _perv_. It wasn't like that, anyway, he wasn't trying to _look at Barbara_ (although he wasn't going to lie and say he'd be disappointed if he did catch a glimpse he shouldn't have); rather he was trying to figure out if she was planning on coming out that night. Jason didn't know why he cared. In some ways she was like a miniature Bruce, if one who was easier on the eyes. Don't be so violent, Robin. Channel that rage appropriately, Robin. We don't use excessive violence, Robin. **Blah, blah, blah**. Maybe it just came easier from the redhead who looked at him and at least tried to understand. Maybe it was easier to believe in a lighter touch of justice from someone who wasn't darkness personified.

No matter how many shades of black she wore, or how many bat symbols she stamped on, Barbara Gordon wasn't going to convince anyone that she was a dark and tortured soul.

So Jason waited for her, hoping she'd break the tedium of patrol with Bruce – things were more fun when he was in competition with Batgirl. Not that it _was_ a competition, she was out of his league in so many ways it wasn't even funny. Still, it was better to push himself to surprise Barbara than to meet the high expectations left in Dick Grayson's wake. He liked to think he was waiting patiently in the darkness, but no one would ever accuse Jason Todd of _that_ trait, so after a few minutes he began rummaging for small bits of broken asphalt or pebbles to carefully lob at the second-story bedroom window. The shadows stopped moving. Jason held his breath, wondering if she was going just just fly right out of the room and kick his ass then and there, or whether she'd call her father.

He snorted; unlikely. Barbara was the sort of girl who wanted to take the world on her own terms, and Batgirl was scary as shit _without_ the threat of cops. If Miss Gordon thought there was a peeping tom outside her window, she damn well would be coming down herself. She didn't though. After a few awkward seconds (and two more bits of rubble bouncing off her window pane) she came into view backlit by her room,and opened the window.

“Of course it's you,” Her voice drifted down into the alley easily, despite the quiet tone she was taking. That was another thing Barbara had going for her. She knew when to be sneaky about these things. “What do you want, Robin?”

“Well, I was here to see if BG could come out to play,” he replied easily, drifting out of his shadows now that he'd been spotted by her. The play on her initials was intentional. It was innocuous, and gave no one reason to think they were talking about Batgirl. Or rather, it wouldn't if he wasn't here in costume himself. Jason waved a hand at the dark blue robe she wore, and the odd way her hair was pushed up off her neck. “You don't exactly look dressed for it.”

Almost self-consciously, Barbara's hand drifted up to her hair and the annoyance on her face wavered for just a moment, only to come back full-force. “I have other plans tonight, Boy Wonder.”

Other plans? Well, now Jason was curious, and despite a rough life on the streets he tended to give in to that curiosity. It wasn't that he hadn't learned better, it was just that he had a knack for ignoring the very wise things he picked up over the course of his young life. He crossed the alley way, and scaled the one story that separated them easily, making use of his light weight, the storm drain, and a skill-set learned long before the Dark Knight had come into his life. Barbara backed up as he approached the window, and he took it for a welcome.

After all, she could have made her no _very_ plain.

Jason perched on the sill, getting a better look at the older teen now that they were on the same level. She'd pulled her hair up; held it there with some kind of sparkly clip. She'd put on make-up, the first time he ever recalled noticing it on her. Perhaps because she'd done something to make the freckles along her nose and cheeks harder to notice, and then made use of some kind of shimmer. In the background, a blue dress hung on the back of a door. Jason blinked, quickly reassessing the smart, quirky, but-ultimately-badass girl he had known for the past months. He'd never imagined her dressing up, being _pretty_. Barbara was a beautiful girl, but that sort of beauty wasn't the first thing you noticed about a woman who could kick the absolute shit out of some guards, break into a high-level security system, and do it without breaking a sweat while you were bumbling along after her. He pulled his gaze from the dress back to the girl.

“You um. Covered up your freckles.” He said lamely, not willing to make a joke in the face of her discomfort over having been caught getting ready for some kind of...something. He'd hoped that the seemingly harmless remark would pass for small-talk, but a self-conscious expression crossed her face and he realized too late he'd put his foot in it. “I mean, it looks nice! Not that the freckles – shit, there's no coming back from that, is there?”

A very real grin touched her lips, and Barbara shook her head. “What are you doing, Jason?”

“Hell if I know.” He shrugged, automatically reaching for the cigarettes he'd been relying on to distract his way out of awkward moments. The look on her face when she saw the carton come out of his belt had Jason rethinking the ingrained movement, and he tucked them away again. “Sorry, habit.”

“Smoking kills.” Her remark was, by now, as habitual as the actual act. Jason shrugged.

Silence awkwardly descended, the two teenagers now in a situation that they hadn't planned on, and weren't sure how to conclude. She spoke first, flushing faintly as she pointed to the blue gown on the back of her door. “I have to get dressed, Jason.”

He blinked, bit back the suggestion that she go right ahead, and made his way to the window instead. “Enjoy your night off, Barbie.” Jason remarked as he straddled the window. “You deserve it, and I think you'll look very pretty. With or without freckles.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jason vacated the window. He missed the look of pleased surprise on Barbara's face.


	3. IN SHINING ARMOR

“Bat- oof.” Jason took a limping step back, hand pressing against his side while he did so. He'd forgotten to keep his guard up, and active. It was hard to remember sometimes – defensive fighting was definitely nothing he'd practiced much of on the streets. After all, the tried and true brawl-and-run had been his go to for getting out of tight spots. Too bad it hadn't worked so well for him as Robin. Maybe he didn't have the skill level of the previous Robin – yet – but Jason was confident that he at least had twice the balls. He grinned widely, two rows of blood-lined teeth showing between busted lips. The kick was too fast for Jason to see; he at least remembered to cuve inward, hands wrapped protectively around the back of his head and neck as he went through the sheet glass window and onto the street beyond it.

Where was Batman? Probably frying bigger fish, as the saying went. Joker was definitely the bigger fish compared to this surprisngly-skillful goon.

“What is it they say about the bird in the hand, Birdie Boy?” The henchman unoriginally growled as he stepped through the window. Was being cliché a requirement for working for Gotham's more colorful villains? Also, the _puns_. Jason rolled from his back to his side, watching the much larger man move. He let out a wet laugh.

“I think they shit on you.” The quip distracted the thug for a moment; long enough for a blue-ish blur to appear between them.

Jason's eyes focused first on her bare feet, then the curve of her calf as he let his gaze drift higher. The pretty blue skirt of her dress was ripped from hem to half way up her thigh, and he frowned. Who was she? The hip he'd been staring at pivoted suddenly, snapping a deceptively muscular leg up into a kick that knocked his opponent onto his back. She turned; suddenly the red hair, and familiar face, were visible and Robin couldn't help wincing. Damn, was she ever going to see him at anything other than his worst? She bent over him, concerned.

“You okay, Boy Wonder?” Her freckles were even harder to see in the dim light of the street, but there was still that shimmer on her cheekbones, and he wondered what her other plans had been for the evening, and why she was here now.

Jason nodded, and licked blood-covered lips. “Jesus Barbie, talk about timing.” She smiled back, but his gaze slid from her face to over her shoulder – to the man regaining his feet. “Look out!”

Barbara turned back to the attacker; not fast enough to avoid the fist that slammed into her face with enough force it made Jason's teeth ache _for_ her. The young Robin managed to roll to his knees, unwilling to lay on the pavement while she took hits meant for him. He'd only just gotten that far when those large hands reached for Barbara's throat. Jason choked on the blood still rolling down his throat from what he figured was a broken nose. He was in no condition to help her. But as he watched, it became apparent that the redhead was _not in need_ of his help. Her forearms came up in what he first mistook for a guard before the hard bone in them met the fleshy inside of the thug's arms, pushing them back out. Her right hand shot out, catching the solar plexus against the heel of her hand, and Jason could hear the air _whoosh_ out of those leathery lungs from here. The woman's left hand slammed palm first into his nose; the hard bone of her shin connected with his groin.

It happened in less than thirty seconds, and her would-be attacker was groaning on the ground. Barbara turned back to Jason, her hands now gentle as she felt his arms and legs for injuries. “Dick is on his way,” she said quietly. “He'll take you home.”

Great. Jason wanted to puke; they were both seeing him in shit condition – and the awareness that Barbara's _plans_ had included Dick Grayson was not something that he wanted. Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Barbara Gordon had just saved his ass, and even he wasn't so rude as to cock that up. Much.

“Swell. Hope I didn't ruin his _happy ending_ tonight.” He watched her face flush, her eyes narrow in anger, but was surprised when her grip on his forearms stayed gentle. She carefully pulled him to his feet. “Sorry, Barbie, I-”

“Don't, Jason.” He'd never heard her use that tone on him. Bad guys? Sure, like every other night. But not on him. He swallowed hard. “I'm going to babysit your friend over here until the police show. In the meantime I'll leave you in Nightwing's _capable_ hands.”

A glance over his shoulder told him that Dick had arrived, and that just made this whole thing _even more perfect_. There weren't any words he could swallow, not enough to make up for the anger he'd just caused in the young woman. So he didn't run his mouth – much – when Dick wrapped a gentle arm around his midsection and used his grappling gun to pull them up into the shadows of the buildings. He could feel Dick's disappointment, and knowing that there was also sympathy mixed in just made him consider puking all down that perfectly muscled arm. Jason wondered if anyone would be suitably proud when he decided against it.

\--

“You know,” Dick commented an hour later, wrapping up some of Jason's worse injuries, “it's lucky for you she didn't knock your teeth loose.”

The younger male ran a tongue over his teeth, grateful when none of them immediately detached from his gums. “She'd have been a little too late to that party.”

Dick snorted, and Jason thought he might have heard the amusement behind the sound. He didn't _want_ to like the first Robin. He was just so god-damn perfect, and nearly everyone liked to remind Jason of that fact. Unfortunately, he was also _likeable_ and the fact that Jason found himself _wanting_ to like Dick just made him even angrier. He waved Dick away from prodding at one of the many bruises sporting his smaller body. “I'm fine, Grayson. Don't be such a hen.”

They scowled at one another until the sound of the batcave's entrance opening pulled their attention away. She was sitting on Dick's motorcycle, her torn skirt hiked up far enough that Jason felt a little indecent looking at her. She swung off, keys dangling from her fingers, and Jason had to force himself to look away from the musculature of her legs that he could see shifting beneath her fair skin as she moved. Barbara tossed the keys to Dick, but her attention was clearly on Jason.

“How are you feeling, Kid?” She didn't sound angry anymore, but Jason didn't know how to answer her . He just shrugged instead, and took the moment to look at the bruise spreading dark blue and purple across her cheekbones. Her make-up had smudged, freckles and bruise and shimmer blending on that side. She looked even more beautiful to him than she had earlier in the evening. Dick patted his shoulder as he moved around Jason to greet Barbara. Jay rolled his shoulder to offset the older male's hand. It was awkward to watch Dick lightly touch the bruise, to kiss her by way of greeting. He felt cold.

Rather than intrude, Jason left the batcave. He tried not to think about how often he did.

 


End file.
